


The Tyranny of Kinship

by amarielah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Leia Organa, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, eventual suitless!Vader, skywalkers and their melodrama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarielah/pseuds/amarielah
Summary: The presence of an Alliance mole aboard the Death Star leads to Bail Organa learning quickly of his daughter's capture. With the dissolution of the Senate, only one option remains for him to save her life: telling Vader the truth of her parentage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been sitting in my drafts for years. With more canon than ever and a better grasp of both Leia's and Vader's characterization, I finally feel confidant enough to publish it.

Vader was in a foul mood when he returned to his quarters; his interrogation of the Princess had proven to be entirely fruitless.

Interrogations using pain alone had never been overly effective, causing the subject to babble whatever it was they thought their interrogators wanted to hear. Knowing this from several first-hand experiences, Vader augmented his sessions with psychoactive drugs and his own command of the Force, allowing him to direct their thoughts to the truths that they fought to conceal.

Her Highness had proven uniquely able to withstand his mental probing, however. An admirable yet highly frustrating trait.

He stalked over to his comm station, bracing himself to report his failure to Tarkin. The two of them had an efficient working relationship, and as much of a rapport as Vader's grudges would allow - but he was wary of the man's growing place in his Master's inner circle. Ever since the collapse of the Inquisitorial corp, Vader had perceived his Master's favor for him waning. Any and all subsequent failures merely served to expedite this process.

The light on his console was blinking, informing him that a message had been received and stored in his absence. A curious thing. Nobody with high enough clearance to access his comm lines ever bothered to leave such messages. If the matter was so urgent, they simply used his mobile comm instead.

The Force rippled around him as his hand approached the button to open the message. Curious indeed.

The holo message that appeared bore the visage of one Viceroy Bail Organa.

 _"Lord Vader,"_ he began solemnly. _"I hope this message reaches you before Leia has been executed."_

Organa took a deep breath. He looked unwell.

_"I'm sure you're already aware that I have eyes within the Imperial Navy. One of my contacts has informed me that you have captured Princess Leia. Indeed, I have been told that you plan to interrogate her personally."_

Pain passed briefly over the Viceroy's face, but he mastered himself quickly.

_"I have sent this message because I now know that the only way to save Leia's life is to tell you the truth."_

A pause, as Organa gathered his nerve.

_"And the truth, Lord Vader, is that Leia is your biological daughter. Please protect her, Anakin - if not for her own sake, then for Padme's."_

The message continued to play for a few more seconds, but Vader didn't hear a word of it.

* * *

Princess Leia Organa. His _daughter_.

The thought of it was absurd. A transparent ploy to keep the rebel Princess alive.

And yet, Organa knew that lying was futile. Confirming his assertions would be all too easy.

Of course, if what Organa said was true, then the official records of the Princess' genome would've been tampered with. By slicing, or by finding a way to confound the test, it certainly wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. It was therefore necessary to obtain a fresh sample and analyze it himself.

The Princess was sitting upright when he entered her cell, and stiffened visibly upon registering who had come to visit her. No doubt, she anticipated another round of interrogation.

That may yet come, depending on the outcome of his investigations.

He resisted the temptation to taunt her, despite the lingering defiance in her gaze. "I require a strand of your hair," he said, without preamble.

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

Vader held out his hand. "You are not in a position to refuse," he pointed out. He would rather not have to take one by force. It was beneath both of their dignities.

Lips pursing, she reached up and plucked a stray flyaway from the top of her head. Her hair was still styled in the elaborate manner of royalty, despite the days of confinement - a matter of pride, no doubt.

She placed the short strand in the palm of his hand, which he closed tightly.

He left without another word.

* * *

When the medical droid returned the results, the walls of Vader's quarters expanded, and the transparisteel of his viewport cracked.

* * *

"Leia," he began, her given name feeling awkward on his tongue. He wondered suddenly if Padme had been the one to name her, but quashed the thought before he could linger on it. "I am your father."

He wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting. Outrage, perhaps. Denial, certainly. She was his enemy, and had been for many years. Her disdain for him was obvious even without the way it seeped into the Force. But she reacted with nothing so dramatic, favoring him instead with a slight creasing of her brows, a tightening of the mouth. "I see," she said.

He sensed her distress, her revulsion, but also...resignation. "You know it to be true," he stated.

"I've known I was adopted for as long as I can remember," she said. "Did my father tell you so that you would spare my life?"

That traitor was _not_ her father. "Astute as always," he said.

The frown deepened a fraction. "You've never been a liar, Lord Vader. And neither has my father. It's...an unfortunate coincidence."

The words enraged him more than any denial could have. "There are no coincidences, Leia. This is the will of the Force."

"Maybe. But it doesn't really make a difference. This changes nothing."

"It changes everything!" he exclaimed, jabbing a finger in the air. "You are my _daughter_."

"No!" She stood up abruptly, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She shook with anger. "I am no daughter of _yours_ , Lord Vader. Do not mistake your contribution to my genome as a claim on fatherhood!" She took a deep breath, dark eyes flashing. "You never struck me as the sentimental type. I'm still "rebel scum", am I not? Why not finish what you started before?"

She was bating him, he knew. She needed to believe that nothing had changed – that their connection was meaningless. And perhaps she was right. What did this impudent girl mean to him, even with her genetic connection? "Do not think I won't," he said. And he could, if he summoned enough hatred. He had struck down the remnants of Anakin's life before. Dispatching of her would indeed be far easier than the last of Anakin's comrades.

Leia raised her chin. "Then go ahead. I can't stop you."

His rage boiled. It would be so easy to reach forward with the Force and choke the life from her. Watch as the spark left those brown eyes once and for all.

Just as he had with her mother.

_Please protect her, Anakin - if not for her own sake, then for Padme's._

Pushing those thoughts forcefully aside, he said. "It need not come to that. Join me, and together we can destroy the Emperor. We can rule the Galaxy, as father and daughter."

She gazed at him silently for a moment, as if digesting his words, then said, " _That's_ your pitch?"

He said nothing.

She sighed. "First of all, what gives you the idea that I have any desire to rule the Galaxy?"

A pause, and then: "It's the most efficient means of achieving your ends."

She actually laughed at that. "Ah yes, of course. The most efficient way to restore democracy is _clearly_ to become a dictator. How could I have thought otherwise?"

His anger intensified. "You are arrogant," he said, "and lack perspective. How do you hope to impose any kind of political order on a Galaxy in chaos?"

"Your "order" causes nothing but suffering," she replied, all hint of mirth leaving her. Her eyes were cold, calculating. For a moment, they reminded him very much of Padme's on a bad day. "Allow me to make a counteroffer, Lord Vader: you join me, we destroy the Emperor, and you help me to build a new order from the ashes of the Empire."

"You can't be serious," he said, and even the vocabulator couldn't completely filter out the incredulity in his voice. "This is not a negotiation. You will join me, or be destroyed."

She smirked coldly. "I don't believe you."

"Then you are a fool."

"Maybe I am," she said, crossing her arms. "But I just _don't_. For whatever reason, you want me to acknowledge our familial bond. I don't imagine it's from any kind of affection – that really _would_ be foolish. But you do need me for _something_."

This was why Vader didn't care for politicians. "It is the will of the Force that revealed you to me," he said. It was the first time in years that he'd bothered to measure his words with anyone but his Master. "I do indeed believe that this revelation has a greater purpose."

Leia was unmoved. "Which is to help you overthrow Palpatine and take his throne for yourself. At which point I'll take on the role that you currently have: suppressing all dissent, perceived or real, without a care for the lives I ruin in the process."

Vader resisted the urge to reach forward and grasp her shoulders. "You will understand, once you embrace the Dark Side."

She laughed again. "I admit, I don't know much about the Force, but I suppose this "Dark Side" is what gives you all your little tricks?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Do you really think the promise of telekinesis is enough to make me betray everything I've ever cared about?"

"The Force is more powerful than you can comprehend!" He thundered, angered at her blasphemy. She knew nothing, and yet she presumed to mock the Dark Side! Anyone else would already be dead for such presumptuousness.

But...he _did_ need her. He could sense that plainly in the Force.

Her amusement fell away, leaving nothing but durasteel on her face. "I don't care," she said. And he could sense that she meant it.

He was promising her power beyond her wildest dreams...and she _didn't care_. It was baffling.

"I won't lie," she continued, "I'm not exactly _eager_ to die. But if the only other option is joining the Empire, it's a sacrifice that I'm willing to make. So if you really think the "will of the Force" is that important, then you'll at least consider my offer." Finally, she laid down her ultimatum. "There are three choices, Vader: keep me as a prisoner, and I'll resist until my dying breath; kill me, and lose any chance of changing my mind; or join me, and I'll tolerate your presence for as long as you're an asset. It's only with the last option that you'll get the chance to make your case. You plan to betray the Emperor anyway, after all. May as well do it now, if you really do need my help to defeat him."

He couldn't deny that her assessment was compelling. Coercion, murder, or capitulation: his only three options. "I can be very persuasive, your highness," he said.

"If my suffering and eventual death are what you desire, Lord Vader, then I'm in no position to stop you," she replied coolly.

He gazed at her for a few moments, taking in the plains of her face and the fire in her eyes, and decided that he would grant her a swift death – if it came to that. In reality, he only had two options.

Her cries of agony were not something he ever wished to see again.

"I will give you time to consider," he said, at length.

She snorted, taking a seat on the cell's platform. "Whatever you say, Lord Vader."

Her disdain clung to him as he left the cell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue in this chapter is lifted directly from ANH, then edited slightly to match the shift in circumstances.

Alone in her cell, Leia had entirely too much time to think.

Their confrontation kept running through her head, almost like she was watching a glitching holofilm. She remembered everything she'd thought and said, and yet it seemed, paradoxically, like it had all been done by somebody else.

Darth Vader, the Emperor's dog, was her biological father.

In her shock, her diplomatic training had taken over. She'd seen an opening, seen the leverage she'd held over him, and pressed her advantage mercilessly.

Frankly, it was a miracle that she was still alive.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, even though her father - the real one, not the monster - couldn't hear her. She swallowed down the sudden wash of helpless sadness, the hint of resentment. She had no doubt that he had planned to tell her eventually. When she was mature enough to handle it, perhaps.

It was evident now that she lacked such maturity.

She wouldn't allow herself to cry, though. Even knowing that she had a monster's blood flowing through her veins; even knowing that her capture had made her father sacrifice everything in order to save her.

Perhaps Vader would spare her life, or perhaps he would kill her. Either way, he would now be part of her life in a way that she had never conceived possible - not even in her bleakest of nightmares.

If she cried, Vader won.

And he'd already won far too much.

* * *

When he came for her again, it was to bring her to Tarkin. She expected him to taunt her, to dish out one of his infamously terrible puns, but he remained entirely silent.

It was almost a relief when Tarkin came into sight, her hatred towards him comforting in its familiarity.

"Governor Tarkin," she said, acidly, "I should've expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board." The barb was meant as much for Vader as Tarkin. Vader was a creature of pride, and his subordination to any but the Emperor must have rankled fiercely.

Behind her, Leia could almost feel the tension coming off Vader in waves - silently urging that her not to provoke Tarkin needlessly. But since the cyborg was taking his time with his decision, Leia felt no obligation to heed his tacit wishes.

"Charming to the last," drawled Tarkin, reaching out to grasp her chin in a mockery of avuncular tenderness. "I shall find it ever so difficult to sign the order for your execution."

That he hadn't signed it yet came as quite a surprise. Vader's intervention, perhaps. More likely, Tarkin was trying to find someone else to take the fall, lest the political ramifications proved troublesome. Jerking her head away from his grip, she said, "We both know that you lack the courage to take responsibility yourself."

Tarkin remained unfazed, turning on heal to walk toward the windows of the chamber. "Before your fate is decided, Princess Leia, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational." He whirled back around, blue eyes like ice. "No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."

A small smirk twisted the corners of her lips, despite her mounting trepidation. "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station," he said. Though he didn't raise his voice, the harshness of his tone made it clear that she was aggravating him.

A small victory, but one that she'd treasure for as long as she remained alive.

"In a way," he continued, turning back to the windows, " _you_ have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first." She followed his gaze to see an achingly familiar planet, and her stomach dropped into her feet. "Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

She felt Vader's hand tighten on her shoulder. A warning, or perhaps some pathetic attempt at comfort. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Alderaan – and all its billions of inhabitants – was in danger of obliteration. Her first instinct was to plead, appealing to whatever scrap of humanity was still buried in Tarkin's noxious soul. But Vader's iron grip on her shoulder was like an anchor, reminding her that it was pointless. Tarkin was a born sociopath, callous and utterly without compunction. Nobody with an ounce of compassion could rise so high through the Imperial ranks.

"This is madness!" she yelled instead, and perhaps the hand on her shoulder was indeed some measure of reassurance. If nothing else, she was certain that Vader wouldn't permit Tarkin to kill her just yet. It allowed her mind to remain clearer than it might have otherwise. For a man like Tarkin, only cold calculation mattered. "Are you Imperials really so blind? If you destroy a peaceful core world for the crimes of a few, you'll drive _billions_ to our cause."

"Fear is powerful motivator, Your Highness. You should not underestimate its power to cow the masses." Tarkin sounded so calm. So unbearable smug.

She sneered at him. "Capricious violence makes people _desperate_ , you fool – it will cow only those who are stupid enough to think that the Empire can be appeased." She let out a harsh laugh. "But of course, if you understood _that_ , there would be no Alliance in the first place."

Tarkin raised a brow. "An impressive display of bravado, but I grow tired of this game. You will tell us where the Rebel base is located, or you shall watch your homeworld be destroyed."

For a moment, she considered telling him some lie to buy time, and she began to think of sparsely-populated worlds that she could afford to sacrifice. Nausea churned in her belly. Vader's hand tightened.

A flash of inspiration: Vader was here, as imposing and powerful as ever, but backed into a corner. If ever there was a time to see if she could wrest the Sith Lord's leash from Tarkin and Palpatine, it was now.

"Will you really allow him to do this, Lord Vader?" she asked softly. "To take my planet – my people – from me?" She would have appealed to his honor as warrior, if she thought he had any. But she suspected it was herself alone that concerned him. Or at least, her value to him as a tool in overthrowing the Emperor.

His breathing suddenly seemed very loud. Tarkin's eyes radiated cold amusement. "You must be desperate indeed, to plead with Lord Vader."

She ignored him. Softly, earnestly, she pleaded, "Please help me, father."

For a seemingly endless moment, Vader did nothing. But then everything was a flurry of motion. He released her and pulled the lightsaber from his belt, igniting it with a sinister hiss. She registered an expression of disbelief on the Grand Moff's face before Vader stabbed him through heart, and he did the same to Motti seconds later. Meanwhile, the soldier operating the firing mechanism was thrown across the room, hitting the back wall with a sickening crack.

The rest of the guards were well-trained enough that their own shock was brief, and they rounded on Vader with raised blasters. He deflected their shots with his lightsaber, directing them back at the soldiers with frightening precision. Both of them crumpled to the ground, dead on impact.

He turned to Leia, deactivating the lightsaber. "It is done," he said.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, relief washing over her like a narcotic. "So you've chosen," she said.

A pause. Perhaps it had been an impulse decision on Vader's part, and the implications of it were just now starting to sink in. But he was no fool. "We must go, Leia."

There he went again, using her given name – but she was too giddy from relief and adrenaline to mind. She nodded. "How much time do we have before the rest of the station discovers this?"

"l can lock this terminal at the highest security clearance," said Vader. "But Tarkin still controls this station. It will be only a matter of time before he's missed."

Leia nodded again. "Do you know of a way to disable this station's major weapons systems?"

Even through the vocoder, Vader's exasperation was clear. "We will leave _now_ , Leia."

"No," she said, raising her chin. "If we leave now, some other psychopath will be given command, and other planets will be in danger. We must disable the station, even if only temporarily." With any luck, Obi-Wan Kenobi had managed to deliver the Death Star plans to the Alliance. Any time she could give them to process the plans and prepare their assault would certainly prove invaluable.

Vader moved forward. "You are in no position to make demands," he said. "My generosity is far from infinite."

She crossed her arms. "You're a rebel now, Lord Vader. Do you really want your enemies to have this kind of firepower at their disposal?"

He seemed to mull that over for a moment, then said, "Very well. But we must be quick." With that, he swept out of the room. Leia allowed herself a brief moment of grim triumph.

Against all odds, and though it sickened her to acknowledge it, this unfortunate genetic connection was proving to be beneficial, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now I'm compiling and supplementing existing material, which I'll be running out of soon. Just a heads up for when the pace of updates slow down.

Vader led his daughter to the elevators with an outward sense of purpose he didn't actually feel, his limbs moving as if of their own volition. His mind was whirling, confusion and something akin to terror warring with hot, burning rage. He channeled that rage and fear into action.

Her words seemed to echo endlessly in his mind.

_"So you've chosen."_

Had he? Truthfully, he wasn't sure. He had betrayed his Master, certainly. The Empire, perhaps not. He was inclined to agree with Leia on the result of using the Death Star to destroy a core world. But that had not been what motivated him to kill a man who had become a respected colleague. One of the few that Vader had.

No. What had motivated him to stab Tarkin through the heart was a sudden flash of insight, prompted by Leia's words: Leia, lying to Tarkin; Tarkin, destroying Alderaan; Leia, sentenced to death, and Vader all but powerless to stop it. His only chance to save her was at that moment, he knew, and he hadn't thought any further than that. If the choice was between Tarkin and his daughter, then Tarkin had to die. Leia was far more valuable an asset, and only slightly more of a threat.

Despite his initial hesitation, however, there was an undeniable satisfaction in having ended the existence of his long-time acquaintance. Some grudges were enduring indeed, even if they did come from a former life.

He stopped by an equipment depot and led Leia inside, gesturing to stormtrooper uniforms stacked on the far end. "This will deflect suspicion," he said.

"Good idea," she replied. She walked over to them and gave them a quick scan, then picked out one that looked to be her size. Vader turned so that she could change in privacy.

"Alright," came the Leia's now tinny, modulated voice. The standardized armor, even at its smallest size, looked too big on her. But it would still attract less attention than that ridiculous white dress. "Let's get going."

At the very least, he knew that she could use the blaster she'd acquired more than adequately. She was as good a shot as Padme had been.

They carried on without saying a word, moving unencumbered through the corridors and elevators as officers and troopers alike passed them by. Soon, they were in front of the chamber that housed the components of the Death Star's main laser.

Vader keyed in his security clearance and disabled the security protocols. The blast doors slid open, and the two of them entered.

The giant kyber crystals that served to amplify the laser were suspended in a structure made of a carbon-based alloy. Even his lightsaber would have difficultly cutting through it quickly. Besides, tampering with the crystals themselves would likely trigger alarms that even his own high level of security clearance couldn't override.

Leia raised her blaster, and Vader placed a hand on the muzzle. "It is unwise to fire any energy weapons here."

She lowered it abruptly. "I take it that destroying the crystals themselves is out of the question," she said.

Always so astute, he thought, and was unable to stop a sudden burst of pride. "Correct," he confirmed. "But we are not without other options."

He moved swiftly to the consoles on the far side of the chamber. All of the weapon's main settings could only be adjusted manually from this location, in order to avoid access by low-clearance personnel. It was cut off from the station's main holonet, as well.

Which was all the better, given what Vader was about to do.

Vader's specialty had never been slicing, but – as with all things involving technology – he did have a knack for it. Having high-level clearance codes just made the endeavor that much simpler. All of his changes to various connections and circuits were subtle, spread over the entirety of the central weapons systems and main reactor. Only repairing every single tiny change would allow for the weapon to be reactivated. And after the upheaval caused by Tarkin's death, any such repairs would likely take days to be initiated. Then weeks, or even months, to be completed. He suspected that the Imperial engineers might even resort to a full-scale redesign.

He allowed himself the tiniest flicker of smug pride as he shut down the console.

Leia looked skeptical. "That's it?" she asked.

"You have no choice but to trust in my skills," he replied. His patience had officially run out. "We leave now."

Leia didn't look pleased, but she clearly sensed that arguing further was futile. "Lead the way, then."

With a flourish of his cape, Vader did.

* * *

He led them to a nearby docking bay and chose the shuttle that would be missed the least. It had fairly decent specs, for all that its appearance was decidedly modest. His own shuttle, with its notable modifications, would be far too conspicuous.

Within minutes, they had gained clearance from the tractor beam. Vader set hyperspace coordinates for an Outer Rim system that he knew was not yet integrated into the Imperial framework.

And then they were flying away from everything that Vader had built for the last two decades: his flagship, his troops, his Empire.

It felt oddly like freedom.

* * *

"Thank you," said Leia, awkwardly, after Vader had activated the hyperdrive. She was sitting beside him in the copilot's seat, having changed into a pair of standard imperial overalls. "You saved billions of lives today."

"I didn't do it for their sake," he replied, easing his hands off the controls.

Leia tried to suppress the wave of disgust she felt at his words. She had to give him credit for his candor, at the very least. "Even so, I'm grateful."

Vader said nothing. She wondered if he found this as surreal as she did. Perhaps a change of subject was in order.

"We'll need to get you out of that suit, if you're to join me in the Alliance."

He stiffened visibly. "You plan to lie to your comrades?"

"Not at all," she said. "Getting rid of the suit will be a tangible way of showing your shift in allegiance." Convincing the Alliance leadership to accept the service of one of the Empire's most notorious war criminals would be no easy task; the suit would make the prospect nigh impossible.

"You hide it well, your highness, but you really _are_ a politician." His tone made it clear that this wasn't a compliment.

Bristling, she retorted: "Why are you even still in that thing? Medical technology has advanced since the Clone Wars. You could've been fitted with less cumbersome prosthetics years ago."

"My reasons are my own," said Vader.

"That goes without saying," she quipped, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. "But you can't deny that it must be removed. If nothing else, it makes you a walking target." Vader wasn't exactly known for his stealth; quite the opposite. But even he had to realize that a fugitive was in a very different position than the Emperor's chief enforcer.

Regardless of her undeniable logic, the prospect appeared to unsettle him. It made sense, she supposed; it was no doubt a fundamental part of his identity.

All the more reason to get rid of it, she thought.

"Do we have time to attend to such trivialities?" he asked, after a long stretch of silence.

"All the pieces are in place," said Leia, carefully. "I've dispatched the Death Star plans and temporarily disabled its destructive capacity; I can't influence the outcome any further." The thought of it made her stomach twist. "Besides: as you are now, I can't reveal the location of our base."

She doubted that he'd ever truly be a friend to the Alliance, but she needed to make sure that his betrayal of the Empire was complete. That any intelligence he leaked would be doubted as subversion, or a clumsy attempt to become a double agent. Relinquishing the symbol of his place within the Empire, and thus starting anew, would leave no doubt in any Imperial's mind as to the sincerity of his defection.

After a long, tense pause, he said, "I shall do as you wish, Leia."

On some level, she'd known he would. He had already come too far to turn back.

"I'll go make the arrangements," she said.

* * *

So it had come to this, he thought, staring into the whorls of hyperspace. He was to give up his suit to appease a horde of traitors.

To appease his _daughter_.

He was surprised at his own lack of anger at the prospect. His...resignation. He had come to appreciate the suit many years ago - the way it removed him from his ties to the flesh, so that he could focus exclusively on forging closer ties to the Force. His strength and endurance were greater now than they had ever been in his fully organic body.

But he suspected that this was all the will of the Force; a test to see if he was using the suit as a crutch. It was his rage and hate that truly gave him power, after all. The suit was ultimately immaterial.

There was an opportunity here, in any case. Leia, for all her brilliance, was still naive in her own way. Overconfident. She believed that he had no option but to obey her, and the Alliance by extension.

But she was very wrong.

He would play along, for now. Infiltrate the Alliance, gain Leia's trust, and plant the seeds of the Dark Side in her spirit. Given time, he could convince her of the folly of her cause. She would come to see that ruling the Galaxy at his side was the best outcome for everyone.

His mouth twisted into a smile under the mask as he sank into the cold embrace of the Dark Side, teasing apart the threads of probability to get some hint of future outcomes.

Leia was _his_ daughter. Soon, she would understand her destiny.

* * *

Leia felt the beginnings of a headache as she shut down the comm. Her contact had made it clear that getting Vader out of the suit was not going to be cheap. Even calling in the favor the older woman owed her, it would clean out most of her private account. She wanted to avoid using Alliance funds if at all possible, especially on somebody like Vader. However valuable he might prove as an informant, he had simply killed too many of their members, and posed too much of a future threat, to warrant Alliance credits.

She gazed down at the now-inactive comm unit, wanting desperately to contact her father - to tell him that she was alright. But with Vader aboard, she dared not risk it. The cyborg was known for both his grudges and his explosive temper. Setting him off could derail everything.

She took a few minutes to massage her temples, to regain her composure, then stood up and walked to the cockpit. She held out a datapad to Vader. "The coordinates," she said.

He took it wordlessly, and immediately began to fiddle with the controls. He seemed almost...enthusiastic. Or whatever the Sith Lord equivalent of that was. Leia wasn't sure what to make of it.

"No second thoughts?" she asked.

"It is the will of the Force," he replied, as though it was obvious. This was apparently his way of saying "no".

She frowned slightly, her headache intensifying. "I'll take your word for it." It wasn't that she didn't believe in the Force. "May the Force be with you" was a familiar and treasured prayer, passed down to her by her parents. Rather, she didn't much trust Vader's judgment. It was evident that he was every bit the fanatic that the rumors said he was.

But even if he was right, it didn't matter. Destiny or no, her world was forever change. And she would have to find some way of coping with it.

There was nothing more to say, so she retreated to the cabin to get some rest.

* * *

With the computer set and no need to remain at the controls for now, Vader followed Leia into the cabin. It was a pity that he could not have taken his private ship, with its meditation chamber on board. But he supposed that it wouldn't matter soon enough, if he was truly to be freed of the suit.

He wasn't sure why he'd come here. It wasn't as though he needed to lay down in order to sleep. Frustrated at his purposeless wandering, he looked over to the sleeping Princess. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her face was slack and peaceful.

Unbidden, his mind conjured up a memory of his mother sleeping after a long day of labor. The resemblance was...strong. It took a great deal of restraint not to reach out and push away a stray lock of hair that had fallen onto her face.

Another flash, this time of Leia's face twisted in pain as she refused to beg for mercy. Had his mother shown similar fortitude over the weeks that she had been slowly tortured to death?

Leia. His grown-up daughter. Beautiful and fierce and _stolen_. Is this how his mother had felt, when she had seen _him_ that very last time?

He pushed these thoughts aside, annoyed at himself. They were irrelevant questions with equally irrelevant answers. She had been stolen, yes - but he had no intention of dying just yet.

Still, he couldn't entirely shake the unease. Leia was his _daughter_ , and yet the truth of it had eluded him entirely. Looking at her now, it should've been all too obvious. Yet even her now evident Force potential hadn't occurred to him until _after_ their interrogation. Was this too the will of the Force, or merely the trickery of a cunning traitor?

What other secrets was Organa hiding?

He'd make sure to question the Viceroy thoroughly before he killed him.

At the very least, he could be certain that he hadn't been alone in his ignorance. If Sidious had known that the child of Skywalker yet lived, she would have been procured and turned into an asset years ago. An Inquisitor, perhaps; trained just enough to be of use without posing a genuine threat to Sidious' power.

But now that Vader was aware of their connection, it was only a matter of time before his Master discovered it too. And he would not wish for Leia be a mere Inquisitor, now. Sidious would no doubt covet her as he had once coveted Anakin Skywalker - a prime replacement for the apprentice that had betrayed him.

Vader swore that he would never let it come to that.

He stood there for quite some time, gazing down at the sleeping young woman. But he eventually compelled himself to go to the engine room. He needed to make modifications to the ship's identification transmitter if they were to avoid detection long-term. No imperial vessel went missing for long without being noticed - even one as generic and nondescript as this.

In a way, tinkering was its own kind of meditation, and he allowed his thoughts to drift as he set about performing the familiar work. Like so much else, he hadn't indulged in daydreaming for many, many years.

But now, for the first time in his new life, the future seemed to spark with possibility.


	4. Chapter 4

Vader was awoken from a light sleep by the sound of Leia's scream.

He was on his feet in seconds, lightsaber drawn and activated, bounding to the cabin. He could sense no presence besides the Princess', however.

She was sitting up on the couch she'd used as her cot, staring at the wall, her face white and body trembling. Terror suffused the Force around her.

"Leia..." he began, deactivating the saber and stowing it at his side. "You are in no danger."

Her head snapped around to face him, her eyes wide and feverish. In the Force, her terror spiked. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out save for the gasps caused by hyperventilation.

It occurred to him, then, what the nature of her dream must've been. He left as swiftly as he'd come.

Once he was out of her sight, he heard her scrambled desperately to the lavatory. She must not have had the time to close the door, as he could hear her retching violently into the toilet.

The retching continued for several minutes, making something twist in the pit of Vader's stomach. He considered bringing her a canteen of water, or bringing her a tube of nutrition paste. At this rate, she would become anemic and dehydrated.

He did not do so, however.

Instead, he listened carefully until he was reasonably sure that she had procured them for herself. He then reached out with the Force to make sure that the terror and panic had ebbed away into something less acute.

Even once he sensed that the Princess had fallen back to sleep, his own rest eluded him.

And the prospect of being rid of the suit became ever-so-slightly more attractive.

* * *

When the shuttle exited hyperspace, it quickly became clear why the Princess had chosen this particular location. The facility was a grubby-looking space station that had been salvaged from the Clone Wars, located just outside an asteroid field.

Vader docked the shuttle and left the cockpit. Leia was waiting for him, arms crossed, and said nothing as she led him off of the ship. There was a plump, stout, pale-skinned human woman waiting for them, dressed in a white lab coat. Her grey-streaked brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

She looked entirely too pleased to see them. "Princess!" she said jovially, spreading her arms in welcome. Her smile widened into a grin when her gaze turned to Vader. "And my dear, dear patient! I'm so happy that you've arrived - and with nary a TIE in sight."

"You are not a member of the Alliance," stated Vader, noting the sleek, well-kept interior of the station.

"Correct, dear," the woman confirmed. Vader bristled at the lack of deference. "Never cared much about that political nonsense. I made the acquaintance of the Princess here when she saved my life from some rather nasty pirates." She suddenly looked abashed. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Doctor Franca, and I'll be overseeing your refurbishment." Her grin returned. "I know who _you_ are, of course."

Vader's patience was wearing thin, but Leia's had worn thinner. "I'd appreciate skipping the pleasantries, Doctor," she said, her tone sharp despite the politeness of her words. "We're on a tight schedule."

Franca was unfazed. "Of course, of course - you're a busy woman. Do follow me."

She led them into a large operating theater, chattering away excitedly all the while. Vader didn't care enough to pay attention to her babbling, knowing her type all too well: completely absorbed in their chosen field, seeing test subjects in place of patients. They could prove to be extremely competent, if one were willing to put up with their narcissism.

He doubted the Princess would entrust a comrade to Franca's care, explaining why she'd yet to call in the debt incurred by her act of misguided heroism. But Vader was no comrade.

"I'm ready to start right away, if it pleases you both," said Franca, once she'd come back from her flight of fancy.

"It does," said Leia, before Vader could reply. She turned to look at him, her mouth set and eyes full of challenge. It was, he realized, the first time she'd looked at him directly since the incident on the shuttle.

It was much too late to turn back.

A med-droid hovered over to them - a model Vader recognized from Kamino. "If you'll help us remove your exo-suit, sir, we can begin the procedure."

Vader did as he was instructed.

* * *

Vader awoke slowly, groggy from narcotic painkillers and anesthesia, and was surprised to see Leia standing in front of his bed, her lips drawn in a thin line.

"You look unhappy, your highness," he rasped. "Is this not what you wanted?"

Franca appeared to be absent. The med-droid was at one of theater's consoles, however, and sped over to say, "It is best you not speak yet, sir. Your vocal chords are still fragile."

"Noted," he responded.

Leia's frown deepened, and she said, "You should listen to it, Lord Vader. I don't have the funds to repair any damage you inflict during recovery." She lifted the datapad she was holding. "They replaced your lungs with cybernetic implants, and repaired your vocal chords and skin with nanodroids. Your limb prosthetics have been upgraded and covered in synthskin."

If they had "repaired his skin", it meant that they had removed his scars. He would likely also regrow his hair. What an utterly superfluous vanity. But then, the Princess was a politician. She put far too much stock in appearances.

It was mildly interesting that nanodroids had applications outside of terrorism and organized crime, he supposed. Groggily, he recalled how the Droid Gotra had taken to using them to turn unwitting organics into walking explosives.

The med-droid continued: "You are to have bedrest for a full standard week, with moderate exercise once a day to walk to and from the bacta chamber. It is advised that you refrain from speaking until two days of bacta treatment are completed."

That was it? Vader had been sure that the process would take _months_. Though admittedly, he'd never been curious enough to investigate the matter in any detail. He visited his private bacta tank on Mustafar fairly regularly, but usually in response to new injuries acquired during missions. Its purpose was immediate survival and optimal integration with his suit. He'd had no need for anything more ambitious.

Actually thinking about it, though, he supposed that using synthetic lungs rather than attempting to grow new ones would minimize the need for bacta treatment. Likewise with synthskin. The treatments were for repairing the damage left behind by the various surgeries he'd undergone, then, rather than attempting to repair his body to the point of no longer requiring mechanical assistance at all.

Outwardly, he would look organically human, while remaining as cyborg as ever within.

He shivered, realizing suddenly that his entire body was cold. Not just his face, but his arms and legs and chest. Leia moved closer and pulled up his covers, tucking it in so that it wouldn't slip down again. He blinked at her in mute incomprehension, but she seemed unfazed, as though tucking him in was a completely natural thing to do.

"Rest well," she said as she pulled back. "You won't have much opportunity to after this is over." She then left him without another word.

* * *

Leia wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to feel when she first saw Vader after his surgery. Apathetic, most likely. Or perhaps curious. Instead, laying eyes upon his rejuvenated face made it feel as though she'd been punched in the gut.

Despite the genetic results, Leia had been holding out some hope. Of fabrication, perhaps, or some freak miscalculation. Actually seeing his real face for the first time had left her reeling, however. Because, even pale and gaunt and entirely bald, she saw in his face the curve of her own nose, the tilt and shape of her own lips, the furrows her own brow made when she frowned. She had seen enough holofootage of herself to know how these things looked to outsiders.

She had no doubt that any human who saw them side-by-side would conclude that they shared a familial connection. Hell, even many nonhumans would be able to see it.

And now, she wanted to see her father even more desperately than before. To ask him why he'd kept it from her for all these years, and why he'd bothered to take in the child of a monster.

She sighed and sat down shakily, putting her head in her hands. Of course he wouldn't have left her to die, she thought. It was her father who had always insisted that there was something valuable in every living being, after all. He wouldn't have blamed an innocent child for the crimes of her biological father, any more than Leia herself would.

In hindsight, his awareness of her origins certainly did explain some of the arguments she'd had with him as a child. The _looks_ he'd gotten when she'd displayed a particular talent, and zeal, for enacting violence. Was there a part of him that saw the seeds of what eventually became Darth Vader within her?

Was there a part of Bail Organa that _feared_ what she might become?

She laid back on the shuttle's main sofa, trying to clear her mind of such useless questions. She wouldn't see her father for a while yet, and it wasn't safe to try and contact him over the holonet without encryption. It was of no help at all to torture herself like this.

Whatever the personal consequences for her own sense of identity, she had achieved a major coup for the Alliance. The Emperor's top enforcer was willing to cooperate with them, whatever ulterior motives he may have, and she had temporarily disabled the Empire's monstrous superweapon.

This was what she tried to focus on as she waited for Vader to recover.


	5. Chapter 5

Doctor Franca came to see him a day after the procedure was finished, checking him over intently to make sure that everything was healing as it should.

It took quite a bit of effort not to fling her across the recovery ward when her fingers lingered entirely too long at the top of his thigh. She noticed his tension, however.

"I should probably tell you that killing me would be an exceedingly terrible idea," she said, smiling sweetly. "This station is set to self-destruct within five seconds of my untimely demise, in addition to some other lovely surprises." She waggled her bushy eyebrows. "It's a necessary precaution, when you specialize in a certain kind of clientele."

Not Alliance, and not Imperial. Likely, she worked freelance for various criminal organizations.

"Oh, don't give me that look, dear," she mock-scolded. "All _I_ do is fix people. From what I've heard, you're hardly in a position to judge."

Vader rolled his eyes, but maintained his prescribed silence.

She continued her examination for a few moments, then said, "You know, it's quite astounding that a man of your means and position didn't do something like this sooner. But then again, your suit was Cylo's work, no? That man always did have a taste for the macabre." Her hands roamed over the place where his right prosthetic leg met his flesh one. "Though he's probably not strictly a 'man' anymore." A snort. "And people call _me_ a fanatic."

Of course she loved to hear herself speak, especially with a captive audience.

"There's something else you should know," she said, moving to his left leg. "Cylo implanted a remote control mechanism into your suit, but it was also integrated directly into your nervous system. I asked the Princess if she wanted me to keep its functionality with your upgrades."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, and yet it did. He mentally added Cylo to his list of people that required immediate termination.

She paused, catching his gaze for a few moments, then said, "She told me to remove it."

"Foolish," Vader noted, his voice a croak.

"Quite," she agreed, her hands falling away from his body. "These Alliance types are all so stupidly noble, it's a wonder they aren't all dead already." At least she didn't insult his intelligence by reminding him that he needed to rest his voice.

Once Franca had left, he allowed himself to dwell upon what she had revealed. It was something of note that the Princess had chosen to free him of such a weakness. He had long understood why so many Imperial personnel were seduced over to the Alliance, perceiving its naive 'nobility' as a chance for belonging and freedom. The incompetence and entitlement displayed by many Imperial officers was a problem that Vader himself could easily acknowledge, having dispatched of many personally. It was clear why the likes of Leia would appeal when compared to such sub-par leadership.

It was clear that even he himself wasn't immune to such gestures, as warmth spread through him at the thought of Leia's foolish compassion. He couldn't even dismiss it as a hollow manipulation, since she'd likely had no any intention of ever telling him of it.

It was self-indulgent, he knew, to attribute the decision to her finally coming to understand the depth of their connection. But he entertained the thought anyway.

They need not simply be of utility to each other, after all. The potential for something more meaningful was...tempting.

Perhaps _too_ tempting. Skywalker's downfall had always been his desperate need to find trust and affection from others. It had, in the end, led to his demise.

The solution had come in the form of the suit; the best way to cure an addiction was to cut off access to the drug. Yet here he was, exposed once more, and already craving a fix. A test, indeed. He would have to be cautious.

His apprehension failed to dim the warmth within him, though. And as Darth Vader drifted off to sleep, an observer would've sworn there was the hint of a smile on his face.

* * *

Leia waited until two days were over before checking on Vader's recovery progress, not wanting to accidentally goad him into speaking. His eyes were closed when she entered the recovery ward, but she had a feeling that he wasn't asleep.

Indeed, his eyes snapped open when she approached his cot. His irises were an unnerving shade of yellow-orange, ringed in red.

They'd been blue when he'd awoken from the surgery.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice a pleasant, surprisingly youthful baritone. It stirred a sense of recognition within her, though she couldn't figure out why.

"Lord Vader," she replied, giving him a nod. "You're looking well."

It was, if anything, an understatement. Two days of extensive bacta treatment had accelerated his hair growth and restored some color to his cheeks. It was already clear that Vader was a handsome man, with a deceptively youthful face to match his voice. In fact, the only indication that he was middle-aged was the hint of grey in the otherwise sandy stubble growing on his head.

In the context of the Empire, he would've needed to wear a mask just to get anybody to take him seriously. The thought almost made her smirk.

"Leia?" he pressed, and she realized that she'd gotten distracted.

There was no point in hiding why. "It's just strange, seeing you like this."

"I can imagine," he conceded, with a small upward quirk of his lips. She wouldn't go so far as to call it a _smile_.

She crossed her arms over her chest, deciding that it was probably safe to assuage her curiosity. "Why are your eyes a different color than before?"

He gazed at her for a few long moments, perhaps considering if he was going to answer at all. Finally, he said, "It is the mark of the Dark Side."

Leia suddenly felt very cold, and suppressed a shiver. "I see," she said, hoping that he couldn't tell just how much he'd unnerved her.

But one of his powers was rumored to be preternatural empathy. Indeed, the darker rumors claimed he actively _fed_ on the terror of his victims - like some nightmarish creature from folklore. Could he _sense_ her fear, the way a predator smelled it?

"It upsets you," he noted, frowning slightly. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long, measured breath.

His eyes were blue when he opened them again.

It really was much more pleasant. "Thank you," she said sincerely, her arms falling to her sides.

His frown remained. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Curiosity," she admitted.

That brought a smirk to his lips. "Is my 'refurbishment' to your liking, then?"

Darth Vader. With facial expressions.

It was so _strange_.

"It'll serve its purpose," she said. When he didn't reply, she added: "Is there anything I can get you while you're here? Something to read, maybe?"

It turned out that blue eyes didn't entirely stop his gaze from being unsettling. "The Force is all I require."

Leia couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Overblown piety was the same everywhere, apparently - whether from Sith Lords or clergy. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free to comm me."

She left before he had the chance to say anything more.

* * *

It had been a long time since Vader had experienced awkwardness.

It was something that arose only when there was a lack of clarity about intentions. And it had been a very long time indeed since he'd had any cause to leave his intentions ambiguous.

Even longer since he'd been averse to the idea of somebody fearing him.

But he now saw Leia's fear for the obstacle that it was. After all, he knew from his own Master that one needed to foster trust when turning another to the Dark Side. Yet he also knew himself incapable of manipulating Leia as Sidious had manipulated Skywalker.

Nobody had ever accused Vader of being a subtle man.

Moreover, he now also knew that she couldn't be threatened into joining him. If she got the barest inkling that he was coercing her in any way, he had no doubt that she'd resist him out of spite alone. Even if joining him was unquestionably in her interests.

In other words, if Leia was to join him, it would only be on her own terms. That he'd ever thought otherwise had been desperate folly.

It was therefore incumbent upon him to try and undo some of the damage he'd unwittingly done to his prospects. The true reason, he now saw, why he'd needed to free himself of the suit. It was not his _human_ face that haunted her dreams.

Perhaps Leia would never come to care for him as a daughter cared for a father. But, failing that, he could certainly make himself trustworthy. Reliable. A bulwark in the face of adversity.

He would have to make his intentions plain, however. Make Leia see that he was, if nothing else, an honest man. When the time was right.

And so Vader meditated, and tried to figure out just when exactly that was.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present Darth Vader: the most awkward Sith Lord.

In the end, Vader never did comm her, and she only saw him again when his week of recovery was over. It was, she realized, the first time that she'd seen him standing up without the suit.

He made an impressive figure, she could admit: tall, handsome, clean-shaven, and with a full head of hair. Physically, there was nothing to tie him to the Vader of old.

But his gait - sure-footed, purposeful, commanding - was exactly the same.

Franca trailed behind him, her much shorter legs and bulky frame failing to match his pace.

"Leia," he said, with a nod of his head.

She nodded back, then turned to Doctor Franca, who had finally caught up to them. "Thank you for your help, Doctor."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," said the doctor, beaming at them both. "Do be careful, dears. I'd be dreadfully put out if I heard that all of my hard work had gone to waste."

Leia's gaze flickered to Vader, who was giving Franca the stink eye. Thinking of ways to kill the doctor without setting off any of her various booby traps, most likely. For the likes of him, those like Franca were to be dispatched once they'd outlived her usefulness - loose ends in need of tying.

Leia would be damned if she'd allow it to happen on her watch.

"Shall we leave, Lord Vader?" said Leia, her tone sharp.

After another beat of glaring at Franca, he replied, "Very well," and made his way onto their shuttle.

Once he was out of sight, she turned back to Franca. "I'll make sure he doesn't blow up the station before we enter hyperspace."

"That's very thoughtful of you, dear," said the doctor sweetly. "But I think he understands that it would be against his interests to murder me."

Leia gave the other woman she small smile. "I guess this makes us even," she said.

"Indeed," Franca confirmed. "But do feel free to come visit sometime, dear. We'll have tea."

"If I have the time."

Leia very much doubted that she'd ever have the time.

* * *

As it happened, Vader did not attempt to blow up Franca's station, which left the two of them in silence for several minutes.

Once they were in hyperspace, however, Vader turned to her and said, "I wish to discuss something with you."

She swiveled the copilot's chair in order to face him. He looked grimly determined, and she felt her anxiety spike. "Well, it's not like I have anything else to do."

Vader looked vaguely...nervous? Yes, that was definitely it. "I want to make my intentions plain," he said. "So that there are no misunderstandings between us."

He was clearly waiting for a response, so she nodded for him to continue.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulders tense. "Before I begin, I want to make this clear: I needn't have gone to these lengths in order to find the location of your base, or gain intelligence about the inner workings of the Alliance. The former could've been achieved just as readily by allowing you to escape and placing a tracking device on your getaway ship. The latter, by having a far less conspicuous ISB agent act as an informant."

It made sense, but Leia still frowned. "Alright," she said, carefully. "Then why _are_ you here?"

"Because," he began, tensing even further, "I wish to convince you to join me,"

It was then that Leia understood. As she'd predicted, Vader had taken her words to heart. And he had chosen the only path that had even the remotest possibility of success.

But playing his hand so openly seemed to serve no purpose. "And you're telling me this...why?"

The tension was finally leaving his body, which in turn eased some of Leia's anxieties. Vader was far less dangerous when he was calm. "Because I know that you won't even consider my offer unless I prove myself to be trustworthy first."

"Trustworthy..." It was not a word that she'd ever thought to associate with Vader, of all people. "I've heard rumors that you use your own men as shields in battle."

"I do," he said, not batting an eye. "Rarely. If it proves strategically necessary,"

Outrage caused her voice to rise in volume. "Because their lives are worth less than yours?"

"Yes, from a strategic point of view. Which is the only one that matters in battle."

He said it as though it was perfectly reasonable; a given, like taking stock of the weather. "They're human beings, not holochess pieces," she said, voice thick with disgust.

"That doesn't stop you and your comrades from killing them," he noted.

She shook her head. "It's not the same."

"Is it not?" he asked. "The bulk of the Imperial military is made up of enlistees, not conscripts. And even conscripts are quickly filtered out if they lack the will to fight. So every one of the soldiers who served with me ultimately made the conscious decision to join us, knowing that their lives would be on the line. Knowing the price of victory." His expression hardened, "Your precious Republic, I'll remind you, was not so considerate, employing hundreds of millions of clones who never had a choice in the matter."

"Under the auspices of Chancellor Palpatine," she snapped.

"With nigh-unanimous support from the Senate," he said, coldly. "And the Jedi."

Leia felt disgust and frustration churning in her gut. "You just have a rationalization for everything, don't you?"

The hardness left his face, replaced with a sardonic half-smile. "I apologize if my lack of tongue-tied deference to your supreme moral wisdom is a disappointment, Your Highness."

He was outright goading her now, she knew, and she'd be damned if she allowed her temper to get the better of her. But it wasn't easy to keep it under control when he was so relentlessly _insufferable_. "How can you be so callous? These people have friends and families who love them!"

The smile fell away. "And nothing is stopping them from choosing to become freighter pilots or clerks. Do the rumors mention me using _civilians_ in this manner?"

"...No," she conceded.

His gaze caught her own in that way that always unnerved her. "Think of me as a monster if you wish - I won't dispute it. However," his eyes were very blue, and very clear, and altogether too human, "I will _never_ lie to you, Leia. Nor will I manipulate you, mislead you, or tell you half-truths. Ever."

For some reason she couldn't quite name, she believed him. She found herself reminded once more of some creature from folklore, who fed on sentients but would always tell the truth if you managed to ensnare it.

The question was: could she stop Vader from feeding on sentients?

Swallowing hard, she said, "If you really want my trust, then you'd better not pull any of that other crap while you're by my side. No choking people, no human shields, no torture."

He rolled his eyes. "I'd deduced as much myself." Another crooked smile. "Unless you instruct me otherwise, of course. You're now the one who's 'holding my leash', as it were."

Let it never be said that Vader lacked self-awareness.

She let out a shaky sigh. It seemed very daunting, all of a sudden, to have that kind of responsibility. Like she had personal control of some horrific weapon of mass destruction.

But she'd chosen this of her own volition, and would therefore have to live with the burden. "We understand each other, then."

She stood and left the cockpit.

* * *

Silence was something that Vader usually appreciated. It gave him time to meditate, and had been a fairly rare occurrence during his years of relentless service to the Empire.

Alas, it appeared he had become used to a certain pace of activity in his daily life, and several _days_ of silence had left him...restless. He'd hoped to get something of a respite by talking with Leia. However, the silence had returned the moment that their brief exchange was over.

As had the restlessness.

He lingered by the door of the cabin for an absurdly long time before finally stepping through. Once he saw Leia absorbed in a datapad on the sofa, however, he found himself at a total loss for what to say.

He must've lost track of time, because eventually the Princess said, "Is there something else you'd like to discuss?"

Vader felt heat rush to his face. "...No," he admitted, trying to keep his embarrassment from coloring his voice. It wasn't something he'd had to worry about for years; the vocoder had modulated his tone without any conscious effort on his part.

"Then...could you please stop staring at me?"

He exited swiftly to the engine room. One could always find something to do in an engine room.

There were no droids on board, so he turned his attention to the ship itself. He'd already modified the ship's transmitter, of course, but any standardized model could do with a suite of improvements.

He decided to start with the sub-light engines, which were currently dormant, and quickly found a number of ways to increase their efficiency. It took him about five hours.

They had another three hours to go.

He returned to the cabin to find Leia lying back on the sofa, awake but clearly lost in thought. It didn't take her long to notice him, though.

Sitting up, she said, "Are you sure there isn't something you want to talk about?"

He walked up to the sofa to sit beside her, and leaned back against the wall. A deep fatigue settled over his body. "Would you tell me of Alderaan?"

He could sense her discomfort, her confusion, but still she said, "Sure. Why not."

She told him then of snow-capped mountain peaks, with lush valleys filled to bursting with wildflowers. How she'd love to pick them as a child, fashioning them into garlands and bracelets, pressing them between the pages of the old paper books she'd brought with her from the royal library. She told him of spring thunderstorms, where she'd gone out into the pouring rain to catch the raindrops on her tongue. How her aunts would scold her for getting her nice clean dresses completely drenched and covered in mud.

He listened silently, letting her smooth contralto voice wash over him.

Soon enough, he was asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"Give me your lightsaber," Leia said, holding out her hand expectantly.

Vader glared, but didn't protest, unclipping the weapon from his belt and handing it over to her. She had no doubt that he'd be able to retrieve it with ease so long as it wasn't properly secured, but it was a necessary gesture all the same.

She was at once relieved and anxious now that they were finally arriving at the base on Yavin 4. Relieved, because she would no longer have to deal with the near-painful awkwardness of being alone with Vader. Anxious, because she was taking a huge risk by bringing Vader here.

Vader had been silent since she'd transmitted the security codes that would give her safe passage to land, his mouth a tight line. She hoped desperately that this wouldn't prove to be a mistake.

Still, her gut told her it was the right decision. Or perhaps it was the Force.

She wasn't sure she cared which.

* * *

The base was bustling with activity when they arrived, but Leia was still whisked away to Mon Mothma's private office with surprising speed for a debriefing, Vader in tow.

A few of the personnel they passed gave him curious looks, yet none seemed to recognize him. Which she supposed was a good thing, although she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was leading a nexu straight into a herd of nerfs.

Mon embraced her once they entered her office, easing Leia's nerves just a fraction. "Leia," she said, once she'd pulled pack. "I'm so very glad that you've returned to us."

"No more glad than I am to have returned," Leia said, smiling a little stiffly. There was a growing pit of dread in her stomach. "My father isn't here?" she asked. Surely, he would've been present if he had been.

Mon's face was always carefully controlled, but Leia could see the edges of sorrow around her mouth and eyes. "You should have a seat, I think."

Both of them did so, with Mothma taking her customary place behind her desk. Leia already knew what she was preparing herself to say, though a part of her refused to believe it.

At length, Mothma finally said, "I'm so sorry, Leia, but...both of your parents were executed a week ago."

She allowed the shock and sadness to wash over her, before quashing it mercilessly behind a wall in her mind. On some level, she was sure that she'd already known. Back on their way to Franka, when she'd dreamed of Vader's torture and spent hours retching. The nightmare hadn't been enough to illicit such a reaction on its own.

She must've sensed them both die, and simply been too much of a coward to admit it.

Still, there was no time to be spared for sorrow. "Then we shall make sure to honor their memories by finishing what they started," she said firmly.

"Yes," said Mon, gravely. Belatedly, her gaze shifted to Vader, who had sat down without Leia noticing, and her face registered a moment of genuine shock.

"Mothma," said Vader, by way of greeting, eschewing the senatorial honorific. From their earlier conversations, Leia had no doubt that he was fully behind the Imperial edict to abolish the Senate.

"...Master Skywalker," said Mon, at length. "I'm glad to see that you're alive."

Vader smirked mirthlessly. "Your gladness will be brief, I assure you."

Skywalker. The name was familiar. " _Senator_  Mothma," said Leia, using her contempt for Vader to quash the grief attempting to claw its way up her throat. "This is Darth Vader. After discovering that he is my biological father, he has decided to defect. He agreed to receive medical treatment before accompanying me here." The words came surprisingly easily.

"...I see," said Mon, after a very long pause. To Vader, she said: "That certainly explains how you survived the Jedi Purge." The expression on her face was the closest thing to hatred Leia had ever seen on the older woman, and it was subsumed mere moments later behind a mask of calm. Her focus returned to Leia. "Since you brought him here, I assume you have reason to believe his betrayal of the Empire is sincere. Even so, you have put me in an exceedingly difficult position."

"I know," said Leia. "But he's the only reason that Alderaan wasn't obliterated. And why the Death Star is currently out of commission."

"So our intelligence was accurate," said Mon. "That does alter circumstances considerably. Still, I will need some time to consider what to do next."

Leia picked up her carrier bag and pulled out Vader's lightsaber, holding it out to Mon. "Vader gave this to me willingly."

She took the weapon gingerly. "Given your extraordinary abilities, Lord Vader, I hope you won't oppose any measures I take to keep this weapon secure."

"I am at your mercy,  _Senator_." Their was a mocking air to the words, but Leia still knew them to be sincere. Leia didn't doubt his ability to do considerable damage without the laser sword, but it certainly enhanced his destructive capabilities. Without it, they'd be able to subdue him much more quickly, should he go on a rampage.

Mon let out a sigh. "I must ask you to keep Vader's true identity classified for now. There are many here who hate him too much to care for any utility he may provide - no matter how great."

"And they would act against your orders, since you have such shoddy discipline," Vader noted dryly.

Mothma didn't take the bait. "The desire for justice can drive even the most disciplined soldier to act rashly, Lord Vader. As I recall, there were several incidents in the Clone War when even the clones took matters into their own hands. And one could never accuse  _them_ of lacking discipline." She quirked a brow. "The campaign on Umbara comes to mind."

The tension in the room, already high to begin with, ramped up considerably. Vader's glare was icy. "I am no Pong Krell," he said.

"No," Mon agreed, airily. "After all, he didn't hide his betrayal behind a mask for twenty years."

Leia stood abruptly. "Vader and I will take our leave for now, Senator. Feel free to summon us whenever you wish." She glared down at Vader.

He rolled his eyes, but still stood up to follow her.

* * *

Leia's distress was heavy in the Force as she led the two of them out of Mothma's office. Vader wasn't entirely pleased at the news of the Viceroy's execution himself, as it deprived him of the opportunity to interrogate the traitor personally. But he could tell that Leia was devastated.

He felt as though he should say something comforting to her, but nothing came to mind. She was certainly aware that he had planned to kill the man himself, after all. She would find his sentiments laughable at best.

"Anakin Skywalker," she said, cutting through his thoughts. "I've heard the pilots talking about you. You're something of a legend for the ones who lived through the Clone Wars."

"That name no longer holds any meaning for me," he said, hoping that she wouldn't linger on the matter.

"I couldn't care less about what meaning it has to  _you_ ," Leia said, voice flat. "I just want to know if there's a risk of any of them recognizing you, like Mon did."

"It's unlikely," he said. Any footage they might have seen of him would've been purged from the Holonet years ago. Mothma, in contrast, had known him personally. Not well, admittedly - but politicians were generally good at recalling faces.

"Good."

She led them the rest of the way in silence, giving Vader a chance to take in some of the base's layout. Back in Mothma's office, it had been ever-so-tempting to retrieve his lightsaber with the Force and lop the traitor's head clean from her shoulders. He could probably use it to kill off a substantial number of rebels before they managed to take him down.

But it would've ruined his plans for Leia. Perhaps, once he'd convinced her to join him, they would do it together.

"Stay here for now," Leia finally said, upon leading him to an empty set of quarters. "I'll come get you when we're called."

"I'm surprised you think I can be left alone without supervision, Your Highness."

"You're not a child, and I need some time to myself. I trust that you'll behave yourself."

And so there he was, alone, sensing her anguish but helpless to do anything about it.

If she embraced the Dark Side, she could channel such feeling into power - and use that power to take her revenge - rather than languishing in her pain. But she was nowhere near ready to hear him out on the matter just yet.

But one day, she would be. He just needed to be patient.

And Vader could be patient, when it was necessary.

* * *

After a shower and a brief bout of meditation, he and Leia were back in Mothma's office. The red-haired former Senator had fully regained her composure.

"Your father informed us that the Death Star plans were on their way, not long before he was arrested. They've yet to arrive, however." She turned impassive eyes to Vader. "Did you hear anything about this matter before you defected?"

"No," he said, not inclined to go into the matter of his own failure further.

"I'm fairly sure we left the Death Star before my father sent that transmission," Leia said.

Mothma sighed. "I see."

From behind them, Vader heard the sound of the door sliding open, and then: "Pardon the lateness, ma'am. I was on patrol."

Vader stiffened at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice, and, when he looked back, was greeted by the equally familiar visage of an aging clone. It was not just any clone, however; Vader would've recognized this particular clone even if he were blind. "Rex," he said, with an air of condemnation..

"It's good to see you too, General." said Rex, smiling wryly. He inclined his head to Mon Mothma and Leia in turn as he took a seat beside Vader. "Senator, Your Highness."

"Thank you for joining us, Captain Rex," said Mothma. She turned her impassive gaze to Vader. "Given your past collaboration, Lord Vader, I felt his input would be valuable."

He glared at her, wanting nothing more than to crush her windpipe. She had intended this to be an ambush from the very beginning!

"For the sake of transparency," Leia began, cutting through Vader's mounting rage and replacing it with cold dread, "you should know that Lord Vader is my biological father." Though her face was as blank as Mothma's, Vader could sense Leia's discomfort spike upon sharing that information for a second time.

Rex blinked. "Well then," he said. "Looks like Wolffe owes me a thousand credits."

Vader turned his glare on the clone. "You had a  _betting pool_?"

"Of course we did," said Rex, unapologetic. He sighed wistfully. "It's a pity Fives isn't here. He would'a cleaned out a lot of pockets."

Vader tried to quash the answering twinge of sadness at the thought of his fallen comrade. There was no use for sentimentality in this den of traitors.

Mon Mothma cleared her throat gently. "If I may ask, Captain: do you think Lord Vader can be trusted, provisionally or otherwise?"

Rex looked from Vader to Leia, frowning slightly. "Well, I never would'a guessed he'd go all Dooku on us."

Vader bristled at the comparison, but held his tongue.

"That said - I don't see him betraying the Princess, if she really is his child." His frown deepened. "Though how confident I am of that comes down to what he did to Commander Tano."

Vader made an involuntary choking sound.

Mothma nodded thoughtfully. "Four years ago, Ahsoka Tano went missing in action after an encounter with you on the planet Malachor." She looked Vader straight in the eye. "Did you kill her, Lord Vader?"

He almost lied, because of how greatly he detested the truth - detested what it revealed about his convictions. But he knew all too well that both Leia and Rex would see through any obfuscations.

In any case, he couldn't afford to undermine what little trust he'd managed to build with his daughter, and so he ground out, "Ahsoka Tano is neutralized, but alive."

A long pause, and then: "...Carbonite, sir?"

Damn him. "Yes," Vader growled.

The room's other occupants radiated varying degrees of relief and joy at the revelation. Including Leia.

Leia knew Ahsoka and Rex. It was like the Force was laughing at him.

Mothma cut through his increasingly hysterical train of thought. "In that case, I propose you return her to us as a sign of good faith."

No. No, he wasn't ready for that. This was too much to ask. He didn't owe these traitors anything.

"Very well," he said, when he caught sight of Leia's hopeful eyes.

Mothma nodded. "Leia and Captain Rex will accompany you. We shall keep this mission on a need-to-know basis only, and leave as soon as possible."

"But what if the Death Star plans arrive while we're away?" Leia asked.

"You know I value your leadership, Leia," Mothma replied. "But you can do more for our cause by retrieving Ahsoka. We were dealt a heavy blow the day we lost her."

Leia looked as though she was going to argue more, but apparently thought better of it. "In that case, we'll go make preparations."

She stood to leave, and Vader followed suit.

"Off to rescue Commander Tano," said Rex, falling in beside him as they walked. "It's just like old times."

Vader refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shortish chapter, but I like to think it's a substantive one. Sorry for the delay.

"I need to organize a ship," Rex had said, a few minutes after their meeting was over. "You two'll have a few hours to get ready." His gaze had then lingered on Vader meaningfully, which Vader had met with a glare.

Leia wasn't used to seeing Vader so obviously out of his depth. She'd deduced that Rex must've been one of the clones under his command during the Clone Wars, but couldn't imagine more than that. The casual ease that Rex displayed around the Sith Lord was oddly unsettling. That he seemed genuinely glad to see his former ally was utterly beyond her comprehension.

Vader, at least, didn't share his sentiments, as was evidenced by the way Vader trailed sullenly behind her.

In truth, she was glad for the silence, though a tumult of fresh questions were starting to nag at her insistently. And all the while, there was the little voice in her head reminding her that her parents were dead. In light of that, the intrusive doubts were almost welcome.

More insistent still was the hunger nagging at her belly; she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.

As she and Vader parted ways, silence unbroken, she vowed to get herself under control before they departed.

* * *

Vader was pulled from his meditation by a chime at the entrance to his quarters. It was Leia, he knew; he'd sensed her approaching.

"Enter," he called, unfolding his legs and getting to his feet. There was a crick in his lower back, and he winced slightly in pain - glad that Leia's evident hesitation had meant she wasn't present to see it.

After so many years, he'd become used to a very specific kind of pain. But his suit had never allowed for him to develop aches in his back. It was the first time Vader could recall actually feeling his age.

The door slid open to reveal the Princess, face schooled into impassivity. "I came here to ask you a question," she said, without preamble.

"It must be pressing indeed, for you to willingly subject yourself to my presence," he noted dryly.

She didn't take the bait he'd thrown her, choosing instead to cross her arms and walk past him. Her body radiated tension. It was clear that he had perhaps been a little too accurate in his needling.

"Did you agree with the decision to destroy Alderaan?" Leia asked, her tone clipped. She was still facing away from him.

Of course, it had been only a matter of time before she brought that up again. "I didn't agree with the construction of the Death Star to begin with," Vader said. And it was true: the Death Star had been nothing short of an abomination.

He couldn't see her face, but her frown emanated through the Force. "Then why didn't you do something about it earlier?" She huffed out a breath. "About  _Tarkin_ earlier?"

It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts. "It was a matter that required patience. Tarkin had always held particular influence with the Emperor, and that influence had only grown with time. Though he and I worked well together, I perceived in him a certain...deficit."

"You mean that he was a sociopath?" said Leia, dryly.

"I wouldn't go that far," Vader replied. "His downfall was more due to a narrowness of mind than a shallowness of affect. I knew that he would outlive his usefulness in time." A small smile tugged at his lips; this was an opportunity for instruction. "You see, Tarkin fundamentally misunderstood the nature of fear. It's an emotion that can indeed induce weakness and docility, but - if properly managed - it can also be an immense source of strength. You already do this instinctively, Leia, when you channel your fear into anger." Vader's smile faded. "And, as you yourself pointed out: destroying Alderaan would have galvanized the Rebellion. Indeed, it would have likely led to mass defections from within the Empire. Tarkin thought his success in fighting pirates gave him insight into the nature of all beings. That farmers and laborers would respond to fear in the same manner as the criminals he vanquished." Vader paused to let the words sink in. "He was mistaken."

"And yet the Emperor seemed to agree with him," Leia pointed out. "Since  _he_ gave the order to destroy Alderaan."

Vader snorted. "Tarkin was acting entirely of his own volition. While my Master would have no qualms destroying a heavily populated world, he would not have done so just yet. And likely would've avoided the Core. It is his greatest source of genuine support, after all."

"Which means..." There was a sharp intake of breath. "Tarkin was planning to leverage his control of the Death Star to usurp the Emperor!" Of course Leia had managed to piece it all together. Pride welled in his chest.

"Yes," Vader said.

"And you would've let him destroy Alderaan, because it would reveal his treason. You were waiting for him to implicate himself before you killed him!"

"Yes," said Vader, once more.

"You would have sacrificed  _billions_ of innocent lives for a petty  _power play_ ," she spat, a sneer in her voice.

"All such maneuvers seem petty from the outside." Vader took no offense at her judgment. Her single-minded lack of perspective was something he was getting used to. "But you do not yet understand the power of the Force, or the foresight that it can provide to those who master it. Those billions would have been a necessary sacrifice to save  _trillions_."

"That sounds like the rationalization of a coward to me."

"I am many things, Leia." He quirked a brow that she couldn't see. "But a  _coward_ has never been one of them."

There was a very long pause, tension stretching out between them. At length, Leia turned around and looked up at him. Her mouth was pressed in a tight, thin line. Finally, she said, "If you truly believe what you say - that saving Alderaan has led to trillions of deaths in the future - then why did you listen when I asked for your help?"

He considered his answer carefully. There was the pretty-sounding rationalization, which would conveniently divert attention away from his own weakness. And then there was the truth.

He had sworn to only tell her the truth. "The potential for future calamity was not a factor in that decision," he admitted, a little stiffly.

"Just like the billions of lives on Alderaan weren't," she said, eyeing him coldly.

He held her gaze. "If I had allowed Tarkin to go through with his plans, I would have lost you forever. One way or another."

"That was a foolish gamble," she said. "It's unlikely that I'll ever join you."

"I was aware of  _that_ , as well."

Leia snorted incredulously. "You can't mean to imply that you  _care_ for me, Lord Vader."

He didn't answer that. Couldn't. It was only with great effort that he managed to say: "I owed it to your mother."

At last, Leia paused. "You mean my biological mother," she said, voice soft.

"Truthfully, I'm surprised you've never asked about her." It had been at once a frustration and a relief, to be spared from speaking of Padme. He had no desire to divulge the details of Padme's fate, yet Leia's lack of curiosity both baffled and galled him.

Leia's pause was longer this time. "I have some memories of her, I think. Of her being...sad." She shook her head lightly, as if to clear it. "No, more than that - I remember  _despair,_ and wanting _so badly_  to make her stop hurting. And I guess there's a part of me that's afraid to find out why somebody so kind and beautiful was so...broken."

The words hit Vader like a physical blow, knocking the wind from him. No doubt, she'd already surmised some measure of the truth on her own. Such an acute sensitivity to the Force, that she'd sensed her mother's emotions from the  _womb_ , would allow for nothing less.

Perhaps Leia was right; perhaps he  _was_  a coward. Because confessing the truth of how thoroughly he'd failed Padme was not something he could bear. Not yet. "I will tell you of it in the future, if you wish," he said. "But...I am not yet ready."

Leia sighed, hugging herself. It was a purely unconscious gesture - so unlike her practiced political persona. Under other circumstances, Vader would've counted it a victory. "You loved her," she said. It wasn't a question, but the surprise in her voice still stung.

"I suppose you thought me incapable of such an emotion," he said, unable to keep the words from sounding bitter.

Leia's hands fell to her sides, clenched into fists, and the Force spoke of too many emotions for him to parse them all.

"I got what I came for," she said tightly, before the silence stretching between them could become too unbearably awkward. "I'm sure you have hyperspace coordinates to prepare."

It occurred to him as she left that he still hadn't told her Padme's name.

* * *

Later, they met Rex together in the docking bay, both of them visibly tense. Leia didn't regret confronting Vader over his complicity in the Death Star, though. She'd needed to know that he at least had moral qualms on the matter before she could move forward.

And he had, in his own twisted way. Which she supposed was better than nothing.

Vader scowled darkly when he caught sight of the ship that Rex had procured for their use. " _This_ is the best the Rebellion has to offer?"

Rex shrugged, remorseless. "I was thinking of asking General Syndulla if she'd lend us the Ghost, but she'd recognize you for sure. Ahsoka carried around one of the holocrons you made back in the day. Showed it to the whole crew. So, this is the next best thing available."

Pain flashed briefly over Vader's face, reminding Leia of how he'd looked when she'd revealed the memories she had of her mother. But he mastered himself far more quickly this time. "I will pilot, in any case."

"Obviously," said Rex. "I picked one that could take a lot of punishment, knowing how your landings usually go."

"My landings are  _fine,_ " Vader snapped. It was almost petulant in tone, and Leia got the distinct impression that this had been a longstanding point of contention between them. It was surreal.

Leia sighed, a headache starting to pound behind her eyes. "Can we please just get a move-on? Save the bickering for hyperspace."

Vader huffed, but ascended the ramp without further comment.

"Being with the Imperial Navy's gotten him spoiled," Rex noted, melancholy and fond.

The headache spread upward, threatening to turn into a migraine. "If only that were the worst of it, Captain."

With that, she made her way up the ramp, and Rex followed closely behind.


	9. Chapter 9

Leia was sitting with Rex in the cabin. Vader meanwhile was in cockpit, dealing with getting them into hyperspace. Truthfully, she was more than happy to have a reprieve from the Sith Lord. Though Rex was providing her with a different sort of vexation.

"He says he's gotten better with his landings," Rex said, "but I'm not convinced. He's a hell of a pilot, mind, but mark my words - this ship'll need a full detail once he's through with it."

Leia let out a harsh breath. Rex had been doing this for several minutes, now: throwing out little anecdotes about his exploits with Vader during the Clone Wars. Making light chit-chat about the war-criminal monster who she had the misfortune to call her biological father.

She didn't know why it bothered her so much, if she was being honest. But it did.

"I don't get it," she said, once she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Pardon, your Highness?"

"Didn't he  _betray_ you?" Leia asked, just barely keeping her voice from rising. "How can you be so- so-" She groped for the word, unaccustomed to being so inarticulate. "So  _nonchalant?_  Talking about him as though he's one of your old war buddies!"

Rex sighed, sadness passing over his eyes. "If you wanna get technical about it, the betrayal was a mutual thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can rattle off platitudes about how I fought for the Republic, but it was never really true. I fought for my brothers. My comrades. And after I saw how the Empire used and discarded us clones, I couldn't fight for it anymore. Maybe I didn't realize it at the time, but that meant that I betrayed the General."

"You thought he was  _dead,_ " Leia pointed out.

"The outcome's the same," Rex said, shrugging. "Fact is, we're not enemies anymore. Getting hung up on things that can't be changed is pointless when there's a war to be fought. Bad for morale."

Leia had rarely met clones. Even so, their consummate professionalism shouldn't have surprised her. "He's still your enemy, Captain."

Rex quirked a white brow at her. "Not so long as you're still on our side, I don't think." He smiled. "And especially not once we have Commander Tano back. No way he'll leave if both of you are in the Alliance."

Leia let out a strained sound of amusement. "As opposed to freezing us  _both_ in carbonite when we refuse to see things his way."

Rex' smile turned wistful. "From what I can see, the General's still the General - just with most of the heart stripped away. War can do that to a man, whether he calls himself a Jedi or a Sith or a regular old soldier. I could already see how much the fighting had affected him, toward the end. Made him more willing than ever to get his hands dirty. Losing Senator Amidala must'a just finished what the Clone Wars started."

Leia was struck by the name that she'd heard her parents mention so fondly. Padme Amidala: a champion of democracy and one of the founding members of the Alliance. And apparently, the woman that Darth Vader had loved.

Leia's biological mother. Beautiful and kind and so very  _sad_.

"Soldiers get used to a certain way of living," Rex continued. "Tell themselves that it's normal. But sometimes, all it takes is a reminder of how things can be different to turn that all around. It even happened to some of us clones, during the war. And we were  _born_ to fight."

Leia actually laughed, then. "So all I need to do is give Vader a hug and he'll, what? See the error of his ways? Never betray me? I find that a little hard to believe, Captain."

Rex grinned sheepishly. "Honestly, your Highness? I don't even think you'll need to go so far as to hug him. If I know the General at all - and I think I do, even after everything - then just making sure you don't get yourself killed will keep him distracted from any other plans. Indefinitely."

"I refer you again to the carbonite," she replied, dryly. "Or maybe just a cushy prison, if he's feeling generous."

"Maybe you're right," Rex conceded. "But I think it's too late for that. He's gotten attached."

Leia bristled, trying to keep her emotions from getting the better of her. "He was apparently pretty attached to the first Fulcrum, and that didn't stop him from imprisoning  _her_ for years." She huffed. "And besides - he's only attached to the power he thinks I have, and to the idea of getting to rule the Empire after he's converted me to his miserable religion."

"Maybe you're right about that too," said Rex, just as Leia realized that she'd revealed entirely too much. "Reckon he'd want  _you_ on the throne, though, if you're anything like your mother. Politics would drive him crazy. And as for Commander Tano..." He let out a sigh. "Freezing somebody in carbonite is the only sure-fire way to hide their lifesigns from sensors without killin' 'em. It was the strategy he used when we had a mission to infiltrate the Citadel, back in the day. Figure he did it to the Commander because he wanted to make sure that the Emperor wouldn't find out she was still alive."

Leia repressed a shudder. The Citadel was infamous for being impregnable, and Vader was infamous for his single-minded tenacity. Both of these things had apparently held true during the Clone Wars. The thought of being imprisoned in a cold shell of carbonite, not quite dead, yet certainly not alive, was one of the most horrifying things she could imagine. That Vader had willingly undergone the process himself was a disturbing confirmation of the lengths he'd go to achieve his ends.

She decided to change the subject.: "...You really think that Padme Amidala was my mother?"

Rex gave her an avuncular smile. "It's not even a question, your Highness."

Leia couldn't wrap her head around it. The senator heralded as the greatest champion of democracy, in a romantic relationship with  _Darth Vader_? He may have gone by a different name at the time, but Leia had serious trouble imagining that a person could change so much, so quickly. There must have been the seeds of what would later become Vader in the man called Anakin Skywalker, and a person as astute as Padme Amidala  _must_ have seen them.

"So...she and Vader were close?" she asked, not sure what she wanted the answer to be.

His smile turned into a grin. "There's a reason why we had a betting pool. Neither of them hid it all that well."

Leia nodded, mouth tightening. She supposed that was better than being born as the result of some tryst. Or something more sinister than a tryst. Yet it called into to question either the judgment or the integrity of a woman who she'd admired for almost her entire life.

The woman who had given Leia her oldest memories, it turned out. Was it any wonder that Amidala had been broken, by the end of the Clone Wars? Had she seen the man she loved turn into a monster before her very eyes? Watched the father of her child tearing down everything she'd worked to build over the course of a lifetime?

Had there really been no warning of what he would become?

"We will be arriving in twelve hours," Vader announced, startling Leia from her thoughts.

"You still haven't told us where we're headed to, General," said Rex.

Vader said nothing for a moment, which compelled Leia to look up at his face. He was glaring down at Rex. "Our destination is Mustafar," he said, at length.

Leia's stomach dipped in sudden fear.

Rex remained unfazed. "Bit risky, to stow her away at your main residence."

"Which is precisely why it was the best location," Vader replied, tightly. "My master would expect such a failure to be shrouded in subterfuge."

"Typical," Leia muttered, half to herself. "Only  _you_ would be so bold."

"That's the General for you," Rex agreed. "So, what's the plan?"

Vader crossed his arms over his chest. "I will pose as a bounty hunter, and you two as my quarry. As I have had such mercenaries bring prisoners to Mustafar ahead of my arrival before, it should raise no suspicion."

"Assuming nobody's caught onto your betrayal yet," said Leia.

"It's highly unlikely," said Vader. A small smirk stretched across his mouth, making him look even younger than usual. Leia might've even called the expression  _roguish,_ had she seen it on anyone else. "And in the event that we encounter any resistance, it shall pose no threat to us. So long as you remain by my side."

It was no idle boast, Leia knew. Yet it did nothing to ease the growing pit in her stomach.

Wordlessly, she got to her feet and made her way to the cockpit.

* * *

"She's on edge," Rex noted, once the Princess had left them. "I don't think she's dealing so well with the news of what happened to her parents."

Vader almost corrected the clone on calling those traitorous impostors her parents, but managed to restrain himself. "You will tell me what you were discussing before I arrived."

"Sir, yes sir," said Rex, quirking a brow sardonically. "Her Highness was just asking me some questions."

"About Anakin Skywalker?" Vader said, voice low and dangerous.

Rex shook his head. "She doesn't seem all that curious about you, actually. Seemed upset that I was telling her stories from the Clone Wars." He sighed. "What'd you do to make her hate you so much, General?"

It should have pleased him, to hear that Leia put no stock in a dead man. But he knew it was because of the disdain she held for his present self. That he was an improvement over a failure like Skywalker made no difference to her.

"That is none of your concern," Vader snapped. "And I am no 'general'. You shall address me by the proper title."

The expression on Rex' face was akin to a parent appeasing a temperamental child. "As you wish, Lord Vader. I meant no disrespect."

Vader stood there for a moment, torn between punishing the clone for his insolence and demanding answers as to why he'd betrayed the Empire. But neither would bring him any satisfaction.

This...discomfort...had no doubt been Mothma's reason for insisting that Rex accompany them. A test, perhaps, to see if he could restrain himself.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"I shall speak to Leia," Vader said, after an extended pause.

He returned to the cockpit.

* * *

She was sitting in the pilot's seat when he returned, staring out into the whorls of hyperspace. Her emotions were a tangled mess in the Force, writhing like a serpent.

"What do you want?" she asked flatly.

"Rex has the impression that you have been unbalanced by the deaths of Queen Breha and Viceroy Organa." He didn't have the stomach to call them her 'parents'.

"He's mistaken," Leia said, tone icy. "I won't allow my personal feelings to interfere with the outcome of our mission."

The way she said the words reminded him so much of Padme that he was left winded. He remembered, then, how Padme had always thrown herself headlong into some crusade whenever something was upsetting her.

It had easily been one of her most frustrating habits. And it was no less infuriating to see it replicated so exactly in their daughter.

Because he knew where it ended: a reckless abandon, all other considerations subsumed behind an obsessive goal. In this state, Leia would no doubt make decisions without a single consideration for her own survival.

It made her dangerous. Both to her enemies and to herself.

"You haven't allowed yourself to mourn," he said.

"I don't have the time for such self-indulgence," snapped Leia. "The Empire -" there was a flare of outrage in the Force, "-  _your_ Empire, orphans countless children on a daily basis. Do you think that  _they_ have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity as they desperately try to get enough food to eat?" Her grip tightened on the armrests of her chair. "I owe those orphans a just Galaxy. Because, unlike them, I've never had to worry about starvation."

"You are not an  _orphan_ ," Vader said, sharply.

"I  _am_ , in every way that matters," replied Leia. "Unless I'm confused, and  _Bail Organa_  was the one who tortured me for information, and  _you_ were the one who read me bedtime stories."

It was a low blow, and it struck true. He was momentarily rendered speechless by the sudden, acute sense of  _loss_. The injustice of it all: that he had not been the one to watch her grow. That she had been stolen and  _twisted_ and turned into an enemy that he had been obliged to harm. "If I had known-"

She cut him off. "What? You would have  _spared_ me?" She whirled the chair around to glare at him. "If that's the case, then you have even less integrity than I thought."

He was reminded of someone else, just then: a boy, just on the cusp of manhood, lashing out in grief at an absent master. A master who had only acted according to his own flawed training. But still, the boy had raged and cursed. Even knowing full well that the only one who had failed his mother was himself.

And now here he was, faced once more with the culmination of all his failures. His own child, experiencing a pain that he understood all too well, and yet too alienated from him to accept any of the comfort he could muster. Paltry and clumsy though it was.

"I have no integrity," he said plainly. The fact that he was cooperating with the Alliance was proof enough of that. "So if you need to insult me in order to avoid confronting your feelings, I suggest you find another line of attack. Perhaps another reminder that I didn't have the chance to raise you myself?"

Leia's eyes burned with nothing less than loathing, even as a few tears managed to escape from them. "I wish it had been  _you_ , instead of them," she hissed, voice full of venom.

Alas, he found that he rather disliked how much she hated him. A weakness, he knew, for her hatred would prove to be an invaluable part of turning her. He should embrace it, twisting it to his own ends. And yet, her scorn still burned at his insides - the way that Mustafar's lava had burned away his flesh.

"I know," he said, once he was certain he could keep his voice from cracking. "And I understand."

Indeed, he understood all too well. What was done could not be undone, after all. And he had hurt Leia in a way that could not be forgotten, let alone forgiven.

By the way her face twisted, he could tell that it wasn't what she wanted him to say. Perhaps she'd been hoping for him to play the role of her callous enemy, instead - to mock her despair, proclaiming that those who'd raised her had gotten precisely what they deserved. To be a vessel into which she could empty her rage; a villainous monster composed of naught but the sum of his crimes. An effigy, rather than a man, who she could excoriate without any guilt.

"Don't," she said roughly, as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

He walked towards her, fighting to keep his gaze steady. "Do you regret your insistence that I discard my old suit?" he asked. "Would it be easier now, if I still wore it?"

"Shut up," she said, without as much fire. "Don't pretend like you wouldn't have killed them both yourself the second you had the chance." She let out a bitter laugh. "For the crime of taking me in and loving me, I guess. Would you have been happier if I'd wound up in an Imperial orphanage?"

"They knew  _exactly_ who you were," he spat, composure failing him. "Yet they hid you from me. Dangled you in front of me for  _years_ while allowing me to think you were  _dead_."

She sniffed. "So, between hunting down Jedi to slaughter and subjugating entire species into slavery, you'd have found the time to tuck me into bed?"

"I suppose it doesn't occur to you," he ground out, "that knowing of your existence would have changed my priorities."

Her tone turned nasty, and it was with a sneer that she said, "I find that hard to believe."

"You shouldn't," he said, sharply. "It is only for your sake that I'm not currently hunting down and destroying every last piece of _rebel scum_  in the Galaxy."

"Because you're trying to convince me to help you usurp the Emperor!" she yelled, standing suddenly. Her entire body trembled with rage and anguish. "Because you want to use the power you believe me to have! Not because you give a damn about me!" She took in a deep, shuddering breath. "But they  _loved_ me! And I loved  _them_! And now they're  _gone_!" She whirled away from him, then, hugging herself as she doubled over with a strangled sob.

Her despair hit him as a physical blow, leaving him winded.

"Leia..." he began, trying to find something - anything - to say.

"You wanted me to mourn?" she said, voice strained and wounded. "You have your wish, Lord Vader. Now  _get the hell away from me_."

He was struck by a sudden impulse to embrace her - to cradle her in his arms and allow her to weep and rage into his chest. But he knew that she would push him away. Knew that she would be disgusted by his proximity. All he would do was cause her more pain.

Turning away from her, he did as she'd commanded.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay. I have every intention of seeing this fic through to the end.

Leia spent a very long time alone in the cockpit, crying until her eyes began to hurt. It was like a dam had broken within her, and there was nothing she could do to stem the torrent that came forth but ride it out.

She didn't exactly feel better once it was over, but she did feel a little more grounded. Which she supposed was something. She forced herself to go back to the cabin, where she found Rex and Vader discussing the strategy they'd employ upon landing.

For all the open hostility that Vader had shown to Rex since they'd been reunited in Mon Mothma's office, there was no hint of it now. Indeed, had Leia not known them, she could've easily taken them for any two career soldiers engrossed in the finer points of an upcoming operation.

The spell was broken, however, when they noticed that she'd joined them.

"I'll take over in the cockpit," said Rex, standing. It was accepted safety protocol to have at least one person in the cockpit at any time during a long hyperspace journey, in the event that anything should go amiss. Given how few people actually stuck to this protocol, however, Leia suspected that Rex was just using it as an excuse to escape the near-palpable awkwardness that descended between herself and Vader. It wasn't like she could blame him.

She chose to sit directly across from Vader, because doing anything else would've felt like surrender.

Neither of them spoke.

* * *

She hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep until she was awoken by a dream, the vivid details of it fading as soon as groggy awareness returned to her. Her neck was wedged against the edge of the sofa, already starting to ache; she leaned forward, using the heels of her hands to rub her eyes, and discovered that her back was aching too.

"We will be arriving within the hour," said Vader, who was still sitting in the same place, reading a datapad.

She'd need some caf and analgesics before they landed.

Standing on slightly wobbly legs, she went the lavatory, then set about her other tasks on autopilot. The dream kept slipping further and further away from her, no matter how she tried to grasp at it. Like the eels in the mountain streams that she'd played in as a child.

The only thing she was certain of was that it had involved Ahsoka.

She'd made two cups of caf without even realizing it, and debated going to the cockpit to give one of them to Rex. But she knew, somehow, that she hadn't made it for him. So she handed it to Vader instead, who took it gingerly after setting down his datapad, then sat back down across from him.

Leia finished hers quickly. She'd never taken pleasure in caf the way that her father had, with his specialized roasts from all over the Galaxy. For her, it had always been a matter of practicality, helped along with sweeteners and creamers. The ship had neither on-hand, so she settled for downing the bitter liquid as fast as she could.

Vader was still looking down at his with a bemused expression when she was done, apparently lost in thought.

"I suppose it's been a while since you've had any," she said, putting the mug on the floor and reaching for the small canteen of water that was strapped to the belt of her jumpsuit. She needed to wash the taste from her mouth.

"Twenty years," he replied, before he finally took a sip. He swallowed visibly, grimaced, then followed her example by downing the entire mug.

She handed him the canteen when he was done, which he accepted quickly and drank from in great gulps. It was empty when he gave it back. She wouldn't need to refill it before they landed, though, since she'd be playing the part of a prisoner.

The dream, for all that its details had escaped her grasp, had left her with several questions lingering in her mind. Having nothing better to do, Leia decided that she'd indulge her curiosity.

"Why did you freeze Ahsoka in carbonite instead of just killing her?" she asked.

Vader didn't answer for a several long moments, to the point that Leia thought he was ignoring her. She was just about to tell him off for such pettiness, when he finally spoke. "I foresaw that she might be of use to me when I had overthrown my master. Had I not used the carbonite, he would have realized that she was still alive in short order."

So Rex had been right, after a fashion.

Since she'd already started with this line of questioning, Leia supposed that she may as well continue. "Who was she to you?" Rex's anecdotes had made it clear that Ahsoka and Vader had been close - as comrades, rather than lovers. But Leia had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"...She was Skywalker's apprentice," Vader said.

Leia felt a sudden, unexpected flare of annoyance. "Has nobody ever told you that it's obnoxious to speak of yourself in the third person? You're not some Hutt crime lord with delusions of grandeur."

"You deliberately mistake my meaning," he said, glaring at her.

Leia met his glare, unflinching. "If I am  _your_ daughter, then she was  _your_ apprentice. If this is your way of denying that fact, then it's below you." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Call yourself whatever you wish - I couldn't care less. But I honestly expected better from you than this pathetic attempt to distance yourself from the realities of the past." And it was true: she had come to respect Vader's self-awareness and candor, despite herself. He had his rationalizations, to be sure - but he'd never used them to try and deflect responsibility away from his own actions.

She wasn't sure who Vader was trying to protect with his disavowal of his identity as Anakin Skywalker. Whether it was some way to distance his present self from past shame, or to shield his past self from his present crimes, or some twisted combination of both. In truth, she didn't even care which was the case. She just knew that it made her blood boil.

"Anakin Skywalker is dead," he grit out, and Leia felt gooseflesh prickling across her skin. A warning. "I killed him."

She sneered, using the wash of disdain to quash the fear that squirmed to life in her belly. "If only I could so easily hide from the past by changing my name and claiming some kind of metaphysical suicide," Leia said, her voice like ice. "Is this another tenet of your religion that I can look forward to embracing when you finally convince me that it  _isn't_ an evil, loathsome cult?"

"You know not of what you speak," he said, more softly, and some warmth returned to the cabin.

"Maybe not," she said. "But I want to make one thing very clear, Lord Vader: your personal identity issues mean nothing to me. I have no reason to believe that a man named Anakin Skywalker would be any more or less contemptible than the man named Darth Vader. So all you do when you speak of your own past as if it belongs to another is make me question your sanity. And then I begin to think that I've thrown in my lot with a madman, which makes me question the wisdom of relying on you for  _anything_. Religious instruction or otherwise."

Vader was silent for several long, tense moments, a scowl twisting his handsome face into something entirely unpleasant. She found herself wondering just how often he'd worn that expression under the mask. And also what he'd look like if he actually smiled. Not a smirk, or one of the bitter, empty imitations he sometimes wore. But a true, genuine smile.

He'd shine as brightly as the sun, she was sure. The thought made her glad to have never witnessed it.

"I may well be mad," he said at last, his hands relaxing out of the fists they'd made. "It is in the very nature of madness to believe oneself sane."

"How comforting," said Leia, flatly.

"I will not offer you empty reassurances," Vader replied. "Our destinies are intertwined. Neither of us can escape that now - for good or ill."

With a sigh, Leia stood and turned away from him. "Let's go rescue your apprentice from the prison you made for her, then."

* * *

Their descent to the planet's surface went off without a hitch, which was only to be expected when they had an insider like Vader to help them. All of his security codes were up-to-date, after all.

Leia could admit that it was something of a nice change, given the risk and toil involved in acquiring what often turned out to be unreliable codes. She wondered how long they'd have such a trump card.

Vader had given the pseudonym "Lars Quell" over the comm, and done a surprisingly passable impression of a typical scoundrel. It was surreal to see the Sith Lord slip into an Outer Rim accent and speak with anything less than absolute formality.

"Reusing code names goes against standard protocol, sir," said Rex, once the comm channel had been closed and they'd initiated descent.

"The Empire does not employ Zygerrians," Vader replied dryly.

Leia guessed that there was a story behind the exchange, but didn't care enough to make inquiries.

Within minutes, they landed on the planet's surface.

* * *

Mustafar looked different to him.

The planet had been a birth-place, of sorts - had given him power with the reminder of all that had been stolen from him. And yet, it now seemed somehow...diminished. Like the mining planet it had once been, rather than a hellish embodiment of Vader's very existence.

They had landed only meters away from Vader's fortress. Leia was taking in the surroundings with an expression that was carefully neutral, and yet somehow still haughty. She quirked a brow at him once she was done, saying, "This is a little much, even for you."

"The aesthetic is incidental," Vader said. "Though it has proven to be an asset in the past."

"Incidental to what?" she asked, dubious, while unconsciously pulling at her bindings. Both she and Rex were wearing them in order to maintain the ruse.

"Now is not the time. If you are still curious once our task is completed, I will elaborate."

Vaneé came out to meet them, his suspicion clear in the Force despite no outward sign of it in his demeanor. A foolish potential saboteur or thief would perhaps be convinced by the appearance of Vaneé being the sole line of defense. They'd quickly discover that killing the servant proved fatal, as he was the sole being - besides Vader himself - who could deactivate the security system.

"Lord Vader is not in residence," Vaneé said, in his usual serpentine manner. "I will require confirmation that you are who you claim."

"Indeed," said Vader, before he unholstered his blaster and shot Vaneé in the head. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Neither Rex nor Leia were surprised; he'd explained the purpose of Vaneé's death while they had still been aboard the ship. But Leia still did not look pleased.

"Such is the mercy afforded to those who serve Darth Vader," she said, as Vader undid their restraints.

"I suppose you'd have found it less objectionable if you had been the one to pull the trigger," Vader retorted. "Since I know you understand its necessity."

"He's not wrong, Your Highness," said Rex, rubbing gingerly at his wrists. "There was no alternative. He recognized you the moment he saw you, and would've insisted that any mask you wore be removed."

Leia's mouth tightened, though she raised no further objections. Vader understood that her discomfort came from a misplaced sense of honor. The weight of murder hung lighter when undertaken in the heat of battle. Premeditated murder no doubt struck her as a greater evil, despite the outcome being identical either way.

Vader supposed he was fortunate that Rex had come along, if only to serve as a voice of reason in the face of Leia's stubbornness. The clone at least understood, from years of hard-won experience, that war was no place for honor.

He put the blaster back in its holster and strode toward the fortress, Leia and Rex in tow.

* * *

"Do not stray far from me," said Vader, as they moved down one of the labyrinthine corridors of his fortress. "It's easy to become lost in this place, if one is not intimately familiar with its layout."

"I'd like to say that I can't believe that you actually decided to live in a place like this," said Leia. "But I'm starting to see a pattern in your life choices."

Vader would've pointed out that he didn't actually  _live_ in the fortress, so much as use it as a base of operations for when he had to recover from a mission, or wait for a new mission to present itself. But he suspected that this would simply reinforce whatever conclusion Leia had already come to.

A conclusion which, he suspected, was entirely correct.

They continued on in tense silence, until they reached the room which housed Ahsoka Tano.

* * *

The first time Vader had faced Ahsoka on Malachor, he  _had_ actually been trying to kill her.

It hadn't taken much effort at all, really, to summon up the hatred and rage that he'd needed. With the aggression in her eyes, and the fresh weight of her betrayal, it had been all too easy.

But going through with his plans had not been the will of the Force - evident in the fact that she'd disappeared before his very eyes. One moment, he'd been fighting her, and the next she'd been gone, his lightsaber meeting empty air just as he'd started to plunge through a crumbling platform.

He'd returned to Malachor months later on a hunch, seeking to finish what he'd started. When he'd finally found her, however, she had been...unwell. Malnourished, curled in a fetal position, weeping and muttering. Ahsoka was strong, but even  _she_ could not have resisted the ravages of a Sith temple indefinitely.

It would have been one thing, to kill her in honorable combat. But to strike her down when she was in such a helpless state? Vader had found the thought of it...distasteful.

"She won't come near me," Ahsoka had said, tears running down her cheeks. "I'm tainted, like I was before. I've failed her."

"You speak of Mortis," Vader had replied. The only time Ahsoka had ever come close to touching the Dark Side had been when it was foisted upon her. True surrender required one to be wholly willing; on Mortis, she had been as one possessed by a parasite. A parasite that had ultimately killed her.

Her eyes had scrunched closed, then, her body trembling in his arms. "Please kill me, master. I'm so  _tired_."

He could have, if she had once again been staring him down with fierce, unforgiving eyes. Swearing vengeance. But instead her eyes had been unfocused with pain and sadness, her body entirely too thin. It would have been a mercy, perhaps, to grant her request.

Vader was not a merciful man.

So he had brought her to a medical station and overseen her recovery, instead, making sure she would be strong enough to survive the process of being entombed in carbonite. He hadn't known precisely when he planned to thaw her free. For years, the vague future possibility of overthrowing his Master had crossed his mind - ephemeral and distant. And Ahsoka's fate had become another variable in that half-formed ambition. In the event that he ever did finally strike down his Master, he'd once more awaken her. When he'd finally have the time to spend on turning her to the Dark Side.

He owed her the chance to make the right choice, after all, unhurried and without distractions. And in the event the she still refused him, still insisted on clinging to the ideology of the Jedi who had forsaken her - only  _then_ would he destroy her.

That had been what he'd told himself, at least, as he'd watched an attendant lead her to the platform. She'd been in much better shape than when he'd brought her in, with something of her old spark glittering in her eyes. She'd gazed up at him impassively, saying nothing.

Accepting her fate with dignity, like a true Jedi.

He'd been caught off-guard by the flare of pride in his chest, and had quashed it as he gave the order to lower her into the device. He'd struck down the attendant once the deed was done.

It had only been afterward that he'd actually looked at Ahsoka's frozen form, and seen the small, sad smile on her face. Etched there in lifeless grey relief.

And now that he was looking at it once more, he thought that it was a little  _knowing_ , as well.

"Did you know about her from the start?" he asked, and immediately felt absurd.

'Fulcrum' had certainly been a close associate of Organa's - and Leia evidently knew Ahsoka personally, if not well. The idea that Ahsoka hadn't trained Leia herself was oddly galling, if she truly had known of Leia's parentage. An emotional response, he knew, that was no less irrational than asking a lifeless hunk of carbonite a question.

He let out a harsh breath and raised his arms, using the Force to levitate the heavy gray slab out of the chamber. Rex was unphased by the display of power, naturally, but Vader noted Leia's wide eyes with some amusement. She'd been glib about the Force in the past, yet now it was clear that she'd not seen it in action very often. If at all. Too much confidence from one with so little experience.

He would correct that, in time.


End file.
